Cora Holmes (1) John Watson
by Chell-P
Summary: "Does Sherlock not think about how insensitive he's being to other people sometimes." "It's how he is John his head always rules over his heart." Meet Sherlock and Cora Holmes the worlds only consulting detectives. They meet John Watson, a former army Doctor recently made to retire. Together they embark on an adventure of a lifetime they'll never forget. Set in Series one.
1. Chapter 1Teaser

At this moment in time on the 28th January 2009 a press conference with the police is being held. Detective Inspector Lestrade sat down at the table looking rather uncomfortable about the whole situation as his fellow colleague Detective Sergeant Donovan sat herself beside him, now addressing the gathering of reporters.

"The body of Beth Davenport, Junior Minister for Transport, was found late last night on a building site in Greater London. Preliminary investigations suggest that this was suicide. We can also confirm that this apparent suicide closely resembles those of Sir Jeffrey Patterson and James Phillimore. In light of this, these incidents are now being treated as linked. The investigation is ongoing but Detective Inspector Lestrade will take questions now."

Many reporters hands go up in the air Lestrade nods to one, "Detective Inspector, how can suicides be linked?"

"Well, they all took the same poison; um, they were all found in places they had no reason to be; none of them had shown any prior indication of..."

The reporter interrupts him, "But you can't have serial suicides."

"Well, apparently you can," Lestrade responded after taking a sigh.

"These three people: there's nothing that links them?" another reporter raised their hand in question.

Lestrade took another deep sigh, "There's no link been found yet, but we're looking for it. There has to be one."

Hidden out of sight from Lestrade, in the back of the conference room, a mysterious woman in a black trench coat stood watching a sly smirk creeping upon her elegant crimson red lips. She presses a button on her mobile phone, as all phones pinged simultaneously, grabbing them to look immediately.

 ** _ **Wrong!**_**

She sees Donovan look down at her own and back to facing the press to reassure them, "If you've all got texts, please ignore them."

"Just says, 'Wrong'," the first reporter pointed at his phone.

"Yeah, well, just ignore that,"

 ** _ **Your not going to be able to ignore it for much longer Donovan. No matter how much you detest me or my brother CH**_**


	2. (1) Study in Pink

At this moment in time on the 28th January 2009 a press conference with the police is being held. Detective Inspector Lestrade sat down at the table looking rather uncomfortable about the whole situation as his fellow colleague Detective Sergeant Donovan sat herself beside him, now addressing the gathering of reporters.

"The body of Beth Davenport, Junior Minister for Transport, was found late last night on a building site in Greater London. Preliminary investigations suggest that this was suicide. We can also confirm that this apparent suicide closely resembles those of Sir Jeffrey Patterson and James Phillimore. In light of this, these incidents are now being treated as linked. The investigation is ongoing but Detective Inspector Lestrade will take questions now."

Many reporters hands go up in the air Lestrade nods to one, "Detective Inspector, how can suicides be linked?"

"Well, they all took the same poison; um, they were all found in places they had no reason to be; none of them had shown any prior indication of..."

The reporter interrupts him, "But you can't have serial suicides."

"Well, apparently you can," Lestrade responded after taking a sigh.

"These three people: there's nothing that links them?" another reporter raised their hand in question.

Lestrade took another deep sigh, "There's no link been found yet, but we're looking for it. There has to be one."

Hidden out of sight from Lestrade, in the back of the conference room, a mysterious woman in black trench coat stood watching and a sly smirk crept upon her elegant crimson red lips. She presses the send button on her mobile phone, as all other phones pinged simultaneously, grabbing them to look immediately.

Wrong!

She sees Donovan look down at her own and back to facing the press to reassure them, "If you've all got texts, please ignore them."

"Just says, 'Wrong'," the first reporter pointed at his phone.

"Yeah, well, just ignore that."

Your not going to be able to ignore it for much longer Donovan. No matter how much you detest me or my brother. CH

"Okay, if there are no more questions for Detective Inspector Lestrade, I'm going to bring this session to an end."

"But if they're suicides, what are you investigating?" the second report continued on with his questioning.

Detective Lestrade looked at everyone, "As I say, these ... these suicides are clearly linked. Um, it's an ... it's an unusual situation. We've got our best people investigating ..."

The mysterious woman hits send on her mobile phone again with a smirk. As the mobile phones trilled in once more.

Wrong!

"Says, 'Wrong' again," the first reporter informed again, holding up his phone.

Lestrade now giving Sally a despairing look who now returns back to the reporters, "One more question."

"Is there any chance that these are murders, and if they are, is this the work of a serial killer?"

Lestrade sighed getting tired of the questioning, sharing a look with his colleague, "I ... I know that you like writing about these, but these do appear to be suicides. We know the difference. The, um, the poison was clearly self-administered."

"Yes, but if they are murders, how do people keep themselves safe?" The reporter continued.

"Well, don't commit suicide," the Detective Inspector offered sarcastically in reply.

The reporter now looking shocked. As Donovan covered her mouth, muttering the newspapers name to him with warning, " 'Daily Mail.'"

Lestrade grimaces slightly and looked at the reporters again, "Obviously this is a frightening time for people, but all anyone has to do is exercise reasonable precautions. We are all as safe as we want to be."

She sends another text.

Wrong!

It takes a few moments longer for Lestrade to receive the messages he gets and he looks down to read them both.

You know where to find me.

SH

You know we're never 'wrong' Lestrade. Our usual coffee shop in 15 across the street from the Yard. I'm buying.

CH

Looking up from his phone, he sees a familiar mop of brown curls and a black wool trench coat sneaking out of the conference room. Rolling in his eyes in annoyance having got the hint from her message that she'd been the one texting the reporters. But he could never be mad at her though, she wasn't as annoying as her brother.

Sitting in a quaint coffee shop across from Scotland Yard not 30 minutes later, tapping her ankle boots impatiently against the wooden floor was one Cora Holmes. It annoyed her when he was late but after the morning they both had she couldn't blame him. Leaning back slowly in her chair Cora brought a cup of tea to her lips taking a sip as she observed the people around her. Within a matter of seconds she had sussed out the cheaters, liars and criminals, a personal best if she did say so.

Finally, letting out a sigh of relief just as the coffee shops door chimed. Looking down she checked her phone screen, 12:05 pm. Not even bothering to look up, knowing it was him by the distinct clump in his walk.

"You and your brother have got to stop," she heard the voice of Lestrade.

"You're late," not having taken notice of what he said.

"I'm being serious Cora, you can't keep texting members of the press like that. Made us look like bloody idiots," Greg says taking off his coat, sitting himself opposite her in his usual spot. This had become a monthly routine of theirs, they would sit in the back of this coffee shop for every last Friday of the month and talk for what seemed like hours on end about anything but that had to do with cases or murders.

"Well, let's be frank Greg, Scotland Yard doesn't need me or Sherlock hanging around to make you look like idiots. You're more than capable of doing it by yourselves," she says taking another sip of tea.

"But Cora, was it really necessary to do that?"

"Yes, it was Greg, because you are wrong and not mention very late," Cora's voice raises slightly.

"Look, I'm sorry for being late alright, if you don't remember I had the press to deal with."

"Well, you know where to find me and my brother if you ever need us. But now let's not talk anymore about the case," she said and afterwards, Lestrade changed the subject matter at hand of their usual nonsense.

This kind of talking was something both her brothers would die of with utter boredom but she found it fascinating. Such fascinations, as this made her look stupid to her siblings even if she did have a intelligence above average was nothing compared to them. Listening to her friend speak Cora can't help but let her mind wander of how their little meetings started.

 **Flashback**

 _Cora knew he was completely out of his own mind, to just walk away. That it amazed her at times how he could be so inhuman and heartless. So she just had left Sherlock there back at Scotland Yard talking whoever's ear off that was there would have to put up with it. Now out of the building she walked across the street to a café she had seen every time they had come here but never once stepped foot inside._

 _Pushing open the door the fresh scent of coffee hit her senses, with a sigh she had decided this was the place for her to get away for a few minutes only having calculated she had twenty minutes before Sherlock realised she was gone and forty minutes before he wondered where Cora had gotten to. She ordered herself some tea and found a table in the cafés furthest corner. Not five minutes of silence later the bell above the door rang and in walked Greg Lestrade, smiling to herself as he walked up to the counter and ordered himself a strong black coffee._

 _"I guess my brother is annoying you just like he does me," Cora called out as Greg turned and met her eyes._

 _"Yeah, well that's Sherlock for you, the annoying little prat." He smiled and she laughed before offering to join her in the seat opposite. It wasn't until that very moment the both of them ever had a normal conversation without her brother interrupting or if a case got in the way. It was just nice to speak with someone who understood when she complained about her twin brother._

 _"Oh look at we've been talking for an hour," Cora said finally pulling out of the conversation and catching sight of the time on the clock nearby, "Probably should be getting back, this was nice. Maybe we should do it more often. I enjoyed just having a normal conversation for once," she laughed as both stood and walked back towards Scotland Yard where Sherlock had been none the wiser that she had left. After that day, both she and Greg found chances to sneak away off to the café more and more until it had been made an official monthly ritual for them._

 **End Flashback**

Blinking her eyelids Cora is taken from her daydream by the phone vibrating against the tables surface.

 ** _When you have finished your date join me at St. Bart's._**

 ** _SH_**

"Sorry, it's Sherlock he needs me," she gave a sigh before gathering her belongings.

"Ok, well I guess I'll see you later then," Greg said as he looked down at his hands, both having known Sherlock long enough to know that when he sent a text you have to come immediately or never hear the end of it if you didn't.

"Oh, definitely," Cora smiled at him before rushing out the cafés door.


End file.
